


Death and the Gentleman

by wynnebat



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, M/M, Necromancy, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnebat/pseuds/wynnebat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jason Bourne?" Arthur asked, glancing down at JB. </p><p>"No, Julia Bennett, my gran. Much more badass."</p><p>Arthur looked like he thought Eggsy was taking the piss, but Eggsy couldn't blame him. It was obvious that Arthur just wasn't lucky enough to have one of the greatest necromancers of the age as his great-grandmother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death and the Gentleman

**Author's Note:**

> For the "au: other" square of my [Trope Bingo](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) card.

"Jason Bourne?" Arthur asked, glancing down at JB.

"No, Julia Bennett, my gran. Much more badass."

Arthur looked like he thought Eggsy was taking the piss, but was too stiff to call him out on it. Eggsy couldn't blame him. It was obvious that Arthur just wasn't lucky enough to have one of the greatest necromancers of the age as his great-grandmother.

"I don't believe I've heard of her," Arthur replied, taking out his Kingsman glasses.

Eggsy shrugged. "She was pretty low-key." There was a decade when she had been the power-mad ruler of her own island, but the family didn't talk about that. Everyone had a couple bad years in their life.

"Your grandmother was a Selma Collins," Arthur said, after clearly rifling through his files, the bastard. It looked like dad's entire family tree was in the database.

If asked, Eggsy would've said that tracing your lineage further than to your great-grandparents was for assholes like Charlie, who probably jacked off to how many genes he had in common with nobility and minor royalty. Eggsy could tell Arthur just how many branches left he was of Rasputin, who was the only one of the family tree who managed to resurrect his own self, but he doubted the man would care unless there was someone with a crown in that family tree.

"My paternal grandmother, yeah," Eggsy told him, wondering about just how much research Kingsman had done on his dad's family. It wasn't like they would find anything—the Unwins ran a clean ship—but still, creepy. If Kingsman had done a little more research, they would've found the occasional visit of the ghost of Lee Unwin, coming by whenever Michelle got too sad. He came by much less now that Michelle had moved on (and that had been the argument of the century, when Lee had refused to come back to life because he thought his time had passed), but years ago Eggsy had been able to go weeks without remembering his dad was even dead. "Madam JB's my great-grandmum on my mum's side." Fondly, he added, "Still have the bullet holes in the flat from the last time she visited. Er, over a decade ago, before she died at nearly a hundred. She's very dead."

"My apologies," Arthur said.

Eggsy nodded, sending up a small prayer to the universe and hoping it never got back to gran that he told anyone she'd done something so silly as gone and died. But really, when one's favorite relative—after Daisy, who was already resurrecting mosquitos like a champ—was nearing her 150th birthday, there was only so little Eggsy could say.

"Now, as for your final test: I'd like you to shoot your dog."

Arthur's face was completely serious, but now, it was Eggsy who thought Arthur was off his rocker. But Arthur handed Eggsy the gun, and there was no mistaking it. This organization, this thing Harry believed in and led Eggsy to nearly believe in, wanted him to kill an innocent animal. And sure, his family was a bit crazy, but any animals they sacrificed would walk again. If Eggsy were a regular human, JB wouldn't.

JB, who was named after his gran. She wouldn't mind Eggsy sacrificing animals in her honor, but this was a strange way to go about it. He hoped she wouldn't notice this, either.

As Eggsy aimed his gun at JB, his brain was already thinking up strategies to introduce a new dog that only looked exactly like his poor dearly departed JB into his life. There wasn't any doubt that he was going to raise him again, right as rain despite the traumatizing experience. An apology on his mind, Eggsy pulled the trigger.

And then he laughed, because JB's brains weren't all over the floor. The bullet had been a blank. He threw the gun at Arthur, uncaring of proper safety.

"How'd I do?" Eggsy asked, picking JB up into his arms and holding him close. In the distance, he heard another gun fire.

"Better than I expected," Arthur replied. It was probably the most truthful thing he'd ever told him. "There will have to be another round, as you both passed. Please meet Merlin in the next room."

And with that, Arthur left, his gait as stiff as his voice had been.

Mainly, Eggsy wanted to be a Kingsman for himself. He wanted to prove to himself that he could do it, that he wasn't just some lowlife who wasn't going to accomplish anything in his life. Other times, he wanted to be one for Harry, who'd look at him with so much pride when he'd call him Lancelot for the first time. But, if he was honest, the best part of winning the spot was going to be the anger on Arthur's face.

In the next room, he met up with Roxy, who gave him a fist bump, and Merlin, who offered his sincere congratulations. Harry was already off on a delicate mission, Merlin explained, and would be unreachable for the time being. Eggsy and Roxy spent the next couple of hours lounging on Merlin's couches, coming up with more and more insane ways to prove their superiority for the Lancelot position. Eggsy preferred drinking—at least if he lost that one, he'd lose happy—but Roxy liked the idea of juggling for the role.

Too soon, Merlin paled and turned the screen on, and Eggsy watched his mentor die outside a church gone mad, at Valentine's shaky hand. Eggsy couldn't kill from afar, not even with his powers. But that didn't mean Valentine wasn't a dead man walking.

His own death didn't concern him that much. If it was wrongful, his family would sort it out. If not, he was alright with going on to the next great adventure. But Harry, he was different. Maybe it was trite, but Eggsy could so easily see himself falling in love with him. And that couldn't happen with Harry in the afterlife.

Over the next twenty-four hours, Eggsy saved the world, but he passed up the chance to fuck a princess. There was something he had to do, something that he would've only delayed for the safety of the world, and even that had been grudgingly.

He was on the next plane to Kentucky, flown by one of Kingsman's still-living members since regular flights wouldn't be active for days more. The world was in too much chaos, despite how early Eggsy had been able to stop the clock. He'd washed his hands, but multiple people's blood still stained Eggsy's suit as he walked into a morgue abandoned by all its workers. All laid out on one of the ten tables were corpses, and the freezing cabinet was full, too. One in particular drew him close. There had been around a hundred people in that church, and with so many dead coroner hadn't even gotten the chance to remove Harry's suit.

Eggsy stopped at Harry's side, taking Harry's cold hand in his own.

Death was so malleable to people like him—necromancers. It wasn't real. But this, this motionless body on a slab of metal, it was all too real. Harry wasn't meant to lose his warm eyes, his determination, his formality and fire.

It was a pity Valentine couldn't die twice.

(Or rather, he could, but then Eggsy'd get some annoyed raven messengers from the necromantic council, telling him to stop playing around with the lifestream. Gran would have a couple words to say, too.)

Eggsy closed his eyes, setting loose the powers he usually clung to, lest they revive someone by accident. Moment after moment passed, but his intense focus on Harry didn't waver.

 _Come back,_ he thought. _Just for me. Please._

In the afterlife, Harry's soul took Eggsy's hand.

In this life, Harry's eyes opened wide, his body healing under Eggsy's eyes.

Eggsy let out a breath he felt like he'd been holding since he watched Harry die. As Harry looked around and at him, Eggsy said, "Hi, Harry. You're a bit late to the party. Had to save the world without you."

"I was enjoying my vacation, anyway," Harry replied, sitting up on the table but not relinquishing Eggsy's hand. "Is Valentine dead? And his associates?"

"Yeah. Killed them myself." And those two, Eggsy wasn't planning to resurrect. He told Harry everything, the story told in death after death, the parts in between not nearly as important as the many people who died, Harry most important of all. He even told him of Arthur, watching the deep exhaustion on Harry's face settle in. Although, when it came to resurrection, he said, "Mind keeping this raising the dead thing between us?"

Harry nodded, looking speculatively at Eggsy, as though he could see his necromantic spark just with his eyes. "It wouldn't do for this to get out," he agreed. "I've always had a knack for miraculous recoveries. The others will like this story; I haven't been abducted by a mad scientist who managed to put my brain matter back together yet."

"He didn't quite manage to fix your suit," Eggsy said, eyeing the damage that had been done to Harry's suit, and to the weapons stash Harry habitually carried. So soon after the disaster, he hated the thought of Harry going bare, even if the church incident had proved him completely efficient at hand to hand. Unbuckling his fourth gun from his ankle, Eggsy handed it to Harry. "Here."

"Thank you." Harry looked more comfortable already as dropped onto his feet, took the gun, and adjusted his suit. "Full cartridge?"

"I restocked before I came here. But, even if you have a gun, I'm not leaving your side for days, at least. You'll be bitching at me about it soon enough. It's your own fault for getting fucking _killed._ And in the middle of nowhere."

"I'll try for London next time," Harry replied, with a bit of smile. "It'll be much better on my skin than all this sun. Even my corpse gained a sunburn."

"Not while I'm alive," Eggsy muttered. "I'd like to keep you in this world, thanks. It'd be a pain to have to look for you in the next one."

"I'll take it into consideration," Harry said, squeezing Eggsy's hand. And, with a press of his lips to Eggsy's cheek, too close to his lips to be completely proper, his voice warm, Harry added, "You're remarkable."

And, since there wasn't any rule against a gentleman kissing someone whose fond expression reflected one's own, Eggsy pulled Harry closer, catching him in a very long, very proper kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Complete; no sequel planned.


End file.
